Oh, save it. You freaks get paid to ride your bikes! Do you know how lucky you are that there are people who still get excited about this dumb sport after all the crap you guys have pulled over the years? You don't get to ask us for anything at this point, so spare us the precious Fugazi "Don't slam dance at our shows" routine. Anyway, how many times have we all heard how great the Tour de France is because the fans get to be so close to the race? How about you guys watch out for us? Aren't crowds an integral part of the sport, like weather and terrain? Does the wind stop blowing? Does the rain stop falling? Do the mountains lay down in your path? No they do not, so nor should the Dutchman in the sequined mankini who hasn't showered in eight days and smells bad enough to knock out one of those cows painted in the maillot à pois have to trouble himself with maintaining a respectful distance.

Don't like it? There's always track racing. Or better yet, take up bowling.

Anyway, I liked this Marcel Kittel video better:

Come on, who hasn't wanted to do that?

Speaking of things that are making me crankier than they should lately, I recently received an email that had the words "Bluetooth-enabled bell" in the subject. The first thing that popped to my mind was some idiot reaching for his phone in order to ring the bicycle bell that's already right next to his hand, but in fact the intended use is only slightly less superfluous:Hello! We have a project that we thought fits well with Bike Snob NYC. It’s a bike bell designed to help find your bike when parking it in bike-friendly cities like Amsterdam. You can check it out here: http://frolicstudio.com/portfolio/24hfrolic-bell/It’s part of a little something we call 24h FROLIC where we collect problems and whenever we have some downtime we grab one of them and give ourselves 24 hours to solve it by building a working prototype. Cheers!

You know, the world would be a much better place if design douches would use their downtime to take a refreshing nap instead of cramming every waking moment full of bullshit. (Wow, I think someone needs a nap! [Indicates self with thumbs.]). Anyway, here's the video:

So basically, what happens is these guys keep a "white people problem" box in their white people office:

Which, presumably, they stuff full of "problems" like these:

"My city is too bike-friendly.""My progressive government provides me with too many services.""My Kurt Cobain cardigan itches me a little."

Then, when they have some "downtime," they create these little projects for themselves in an exercise they call "24h FROLIC:"

In other words, it's like the show "24," but for the kinds of people who work in minimalist offices designing things nobody needs. In light of this, I'd call it something else:

But this is why I am not in the field of design and brand consultancy, and instead specialize in shitty imaging, half-assed blogging, and product annihilation.

So anyway, these guys made a bell you can ring from a distance:

So you can find your bike in Amsterdam's famous Train Station Bicycle Clusterfuck:

Sort of like that stupid "panic button" on your car key fob, which nobody in the world uses, except when it's raining and you're unloading a shitload of groceries and the fucking thing goes off by accident:

("I never use the panic button on my car key fob because I don't own the car that would necessitate having a car key fob in the first place.")

Oh, fob you.

Okay. So let's say finding your bike in the Great Amsterdam Velo-Clusterfuckolopolis is as difficult as they say it is. Well, odds are you're not going to forget you left the bike at the station, so that narrows things down considerably. And as far as where exactly it is in the parking area, why not just take a picture of where you left the bike with the camera that's already in your phone? That's what I do with THE CAR THAT I OWN when I go to the mall or the airport.

("I took a picture of my car, too. Would you like to see it?")

Sure, Dave, let's see the picture of your car:

("All right, here it is.")

Yeah, okay, Dave. Nobody saw that one coming.

Anyway, the reason you don't take a picture of your bike instead of fitting your bicycle with a remote-controlled Bluetooth-and-GPS-enabled bell is that it's not FROLIC-ing otherwise:

See, this is FROLIC-ing:

There's just one problem:

The functionality of this bell depends on nobody else having one, so it's entirely self-defeating, because if it became popular all you'd have is bells ringing all over the place after the train arrives, and everybody would be walking around dazed in a Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy-esque dream sequence.

Sort of like Portland.

Anyway, I guess in some ways it's a clever little gadget, but I believe staunchly in the complete separation of bike and smartphone, and if I really had a problem remembering where I parked my bike I'd sooner borrow a big orange flag from my friend with the recumbent* than use a Bluetooth-enabled bell.

*[Just kidding, I don't have any friends, even the recumbent riders won't talk to me.]

Autumn brought a roseate grin to the messenger of magic as the agency’s receptionist handed over the goods.Icicles hung spearlike from buildings in New York City in January when the courier, like a miniature Mad man, slid across the ice-caked sidewalk and shot up the elevator to beat the clock and hand-deliver the divine words.

This raised two questions for me:

1) What powerful psychoactive drug is this person on?

2) Anytime the newspaper mentions bike messengers they're either terrorizing pedestrians all over the city or else they've gone extinct. SO WHICH IS IT?

This piece does perfectly capture the New York mentality though, which is that we hate things intensely and claim that they're ruining the city, and then when they finally go away we lament their disappearance and complain that whatever's responsible has ruined the city.

And now, I'm pleased to present you with a quiz. As always, study the item, think, and click on your answer. If you're right then fantastic, and if you're wrong you'll see how to hand signal.

That top-of-the-post picture of Fred, Jr., with his eyes mercifully goggled to protect him from having to stare at the scranus of Fred, Sr. in normal daylight, is just priceless, and so, so, so disgusting at the same time! Thank you for that, I guess!

You bring us so much good stuff, I feel bad not paying for it. I think it may be time for you to put up a paywall.

Oh, drat. I guess I'll just have to purchase one of your products printed on actual paper!

The reason writers wax poetic and consumers enjoy reading about the bike messengers is they like as history. For those of you'se old enough to remember Roland Reagan's "morning in 'mercuh" it's like that.

Nobody wants to remember it paid worse than Walmart, impressed exactly no one except other dirt-poor messengers.

This is one of those snorting-coffee-out-the-nose posts. All I could think about during the under-ice biking off-foffing was wishing there was a bear at the hole waiting for the biker seal to surface. Warped I know, but it's Friday! Rave On Brother Snob, Rave On!

"You know, the world would be a much better place if design douches would use their downtime to take a refreshing nap instead of cramming every waking moment full of bullshit. (Wow, I think someone needs a nap! [Indicates self with thumbs.])."

The combination of utter accuracy and near complete self knowledge: it's the BSNYC patented combo that keeps me coming back!

Well, my arm is no longer hanging uselessly off my torso, so that's a bonus, but the pain makes sleep very elusive. I am taking more drugs than anyone should ever do, so that's not so good. My resemblence to Rasputin works against me in situations like this.

But such is the life of a crash test dummy. At least I lived to ride again.

I've tried oxycodone a couple times and as best I could tell, it did nothing. Can't figure out how anyone gets hooked on it. The one thing that did work was when they gave me morphine. That worked fine.

Based on the movies, I've tried copious amounts of alcohol as well. That just turned me from someone in pain to a drunk in pain. Who woulda thought that hollywood would lie to me.

I guess you just have to grin and bare it. Just remember the pain will fade and in the near future you'll be doing stuipid dangerous stuff again with just as much zeal.

the integinh conclusion is that humanity survives despite very high odds agin it.

Babs For what it's worth, the fourth day out from my surgery was the worst. No sleep, groggy from meds, cranky, irritable. I was convinced I had done the wrong thing. But from that day everyday got a little bit better, and even though I am riding and back to work and everything is fine, the back still feels a bit better every day. Hope this helps.

Just got back from the pizza counter. The guy's bragging about how he's an honest-to-goodness pizza nerd and has a special culture of wild yeasts he uses to give the dough a bit more complex flavor. I pretended to be impressed and then wet myself, but what I was thinking was "Sorry dude, I wish I gave a shit" and then later "Pizza nerd eh, why not just be a potato chip aficionado" and then "Sadly there are probably potato chip aficionados" and then "I bet he commutes here from Portland."

Thanks guys.Hydromorphone by injection at the hospital was the best painkiller, certainly better than the oxy tablets. I can take twice the 10 mg prescribed and still struggle with the pain. The ambulance attendents didn't realise the extent of the injuries or they would have sent me to the trauma centre, where the surgery would have been done immediately. Instead I got to wait for three days... that's three days without food, water or sleep, with my arm hanging there, the broken bones grinding with every breath. Day one after the surgery was brutal, the pain much worse than before, what with all the swelling. Um, and why do they slice all along the clavicle in order to put a plate on it? It's bad enough with the screws! I am here to testify that bones are living things. They bleed, and they have nerves in them.

In hospital they at least tried to knock me out at night with heavy duty sleeping tablets. My first night at home was sleepless cause the melatonin I normally use to combat those sleepless nights was useless against the sum total of pain in this old bod.

Yes. I will be out there, riding to my dumbass heart's content again as soon as I possibly can. Just not today.

you talking to me, Tony? I don't hate racing at all! And no, this is the first time I've tried it. I've held a license all of a month or two now. Fondos don't count. They're fun rides, not races.

Anonyhater? Heh heh. Yes. Do enjoy yourself. Karma's a bitch, ye poor anorexic wee thing, and she's gonna get you. In fact she undoubtedly already has, since the profile of an online troll is ugly in the extreme.

WIWM! Oh no!! I am so sorry to hear it!! Did you also shatter your scapula to sever your shoulder completely, or do you just have such good insurance that they were willing to set your clavicle just cause? Here in Canada, land of premmium health care, they just send you on your way with a broken clavicle, unless you've broken the rest of the shoulder set-up, too.

At this point, though, I wear my scars well, and don't really mind them unless they're truly disfiguring. Function is the important thing.

Having actually spent an hour looking for my bike in the clusterfeits at centraal station, I can see the value of the remote bell thing. Or else, just remember what your bike looks like. That would also help.

My excuse is the bike was a rental and I had been to a couple of cafes, ok?

Unknown at 1:23 - Interesting video, but that is no bike lane. That's a Washington D.C. "Bike Share" special - the truck had a right to "share" the lane. Hard to tell what happened before that, etc. so I am not placing blame in either direction. Although I like to think I would have avoided the conflict by keeping my mouth shut and backing away from the multi-ton vehicle, I've vented my spleen at times as well.

I am sure I wouldn't find it funny if I were the cyclist, but the video keeping rolling as the bike gets tossed in the truck is almost up there with the Spin Doctors robbery. And, really, the driver is going to sue him for bumping his big truck bumper with a 25 mm tire? Jackie Chiles on the case!

You only think the pizza was shite because your undeveloped palate was unable to appreciate all the unique flavors that the special yeast cultures imparted.

It's just like wine or whiskey where a discerning person can distinguish notes of jam, tobacco, peat or musk.

For example, his pizza may have had subtle variations that to your coarse sensibilities might have tasted like feet. Whereas a true aficionado would differentiate a hint of strawberry, a touch of old leather or the merest whiff of vineagar.

Carardi - As an avowed improvisateur in all things, I almost played along with him to the extent of characterizing my taste as "coarse" by comparison just as you say. But he didn't actually stop talking at any point, so that line went undelivered. If you join an improvisational sketch comedy troupe with this guy, you can look forward to an easy gig.

Despite conceding that the Bluetooth bell thing has its merits, you viciously tear it a new one. You even derided one of the Dutchpersons appearing in the video for wearing a Kurt Cobain cardigan, were as it was from the Dutch that Kurt Cobain took his fashion cues including wearing a cardigan which were invented in Holland between the wars and were called van Caadigaahns, as you well know!

Recently, you took the unprecedented step of expressing approval for a kickstarter project. Approval! Actual approval!!

You took it upon yourself to tell the world you wouldn't mind having a pair of some stupid derivative cleated pedal platform things that are stupid because you can just get double sided pedals that negate the need to carry around those stupid clip-on slabs of stupid aluminium which you're gonna stupidly lose or misplace or have stolen. Stupid!

Plus, not only was the Dutchy's video better, they spoke better English and they even included a cute little Candid Camera type thing at the end of the video with the bell mysteriously ringing on an unattended bike provoking hilarious reactions from befuddled passers-by. Boy oh boy, that was funny.

In contrast, your stupid Americans' stupid video was a very poor unfunny stupid comedy routine from its stupid start to its stupid finish.

Racism is the pnly possible explanation for the wildly inconsistent treatment of these two cases in point.

You should change the name of this blog to Bike Racist NYC, and you should change your stupid sign-off signature in replies on these pages to -- Wildcat Racist Machine.

Oxycodone - gradually stopped severe kidney stone pain in about fifteen minutes. But those are some long damn minutes.

Dilaudid - after severe injury, for two weeks I had my own Dilaudid dispenser button, which could not be pressed more often than every ten minutes. Worked extremely well for about seven minutes. And correlated with weird visual hallucinations and serious paranoia. Couldn't tell waking from dreaming. And of course the constipation was indescribable, really.

Morphine - the King of Drugs. Stopped severe kidney stone pain like turning off a light switch, and, while my body was simultaneously crying and laughing hysterically, my mind was gloriously rational and floating high above, serenely indifferent to the entire world, including a screaming infant in the next bed.

I was disagreeing with calling it a bike lane. I see a one lane road, cars parked on both sides (except to the right of where the video starts - giving cyclist lots of bail out if he chose), and a "sharrow" painted in he road. Not a bike lane.

Not enough video for me to tell who was right or wrong - my prejudice is to presume it was the truck, but I don't know so I leave it at that.You are correct about DC's 3 foot law

But I can't tell passing distance, and whether the passed bicyclist complied with his obligation to yield once passed, from video either.

I was disagreeing with calling it a bike lane. I see a one lane road, cars parked on both sides (except to the right of where the video starts - giving cyclist lots of bail out if he chose), and a "sharrow" painted in he road. Not a bike lane.

Not enough video for me to tell who was right or wrong - my prejudice is to presume it was the truck, but I don't know so I leave it at that.You are correct about DC's 3 foot law

But I can't tell passing distance, and whether the passed bicyclist complied with his obligation to yield once passed, from video either.

Ok, so in the first place of the things, OMG Spokey, are you kidding?? You drink that asparatame crap? That stuff will kill you. Stick to straight gmo sugar cola if you have to, or have your vodka with water and a squeeze of lemon (it's great!) but don't drink diet soda if you care anything at all about the girth of your waistline. Just sayin... with love, n'all that.

Secondly, beavage?! I LOVE it! ++

Er, JLRB... yer not a lawyer or anything, are you? You sorta sound like one is all. xo

Used to drink diet cokes all the time (actually like the way it tastes). In recent years, I've weened myself mostly off (mostly iced green tea these days) and probably 99%+ of the cokes are mixed with vodka.

I thought aspartame mostly killed your brain and I figured "go ahead find some brain left to kill". But I'll take your advice and try to re-balance my portfolio in favor of scotch. As Jimi McMillan says "the cost of that cognac is too damn high" so I have to keep that in the background.

Ms. Babble has returned from her latest adventure into socialized medicine, and as a bonus she received numerous screws while in the hospital. Good for her mental health, those screws are.Glad you made it through what sounded like a no fun at all few days. Looking forward to rehab pictures taken at Wreck Beach. Best to you north of the border fox.

LOL! Yeah, sure. And for years, our venerable medical professionals also swore up amd down that anti-depressants were the solution to all that ails every sad soul, though common sense says it isn't so. Now it has finally come to light that it really isn't so, but you don't hear the industry (don't kid yourself, it's a business) proclaiming the truth in the streets, do you?

Fact is that there are several real things you can do to combat depression,concrete steps to take to balance your brain's chemistry, and they don't involve SSRI's. But that's not what western medicine wants you to believe.

There is nothing in asparatame that your body needs. Nothing. Ever noticed how many fat people drink diet soda? It doesn't help to keep you fit, and it certainly won't help trim your waistline. I promise. I was a child of the asparatame generation, and I certainly gave it a go. My body was abundantly clear in its feedback, and that's where I place my trust.

But like everything else, moderation is key, I suppose, and you're certainly an intelligent grown up with an understanding of his own physiology, so trust your own experience and instincts. And remember take note of the feedback your body gives you.

Already the Electra is a helluva lot easier than walking! My best friend switched the grip shift from the right side to the left, so that's a go. But the doc said three months beofre I can go out on my roadbike again. I will be on a trainer indoors soon as possible, but this is a tough mend.

I am so akbassward. All winter I was out there, riding to my heart's content, while everyone else was indoors on trainers, and here we are in the peak cycling season, and lo and behold you will find me indoors spinning uselessly...

Not feeling any schadenfreude over babble's injury. But just the thought of an avid cyclist who has a tendency to crash is funny. Humor aside, seriously, from a strictly selfish point of view...I fear for her safety. And I curse the Internet for that.

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About Me

While I love cycling and embrace it in all its forms, I'm also extremely critical. So I present to you my venting for your amusement and betterment. No offense meant to the critiqued. Always keep riding!